


Your Secrets, Safe With Me

by CabinFeverHaver



Category: Monster Fucker - Fandom, Monster Lover - Fandom
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Lesbian, Love, Medieval, Sapphic, Secret Lovers, Secrets, Small village, Smut, Witches, vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:53:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23086570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CabinFeverHaver/pseuds/CabinFeverHaver
Summary: In which Fynn, a daughter raised as a knight’s son is set to hunt the witch in town. She finds it difficult to expose the witch, however, when she holds some damning secrets of her own.
Relationships: Witch/Vampire Witch Hunter
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Your Secrets, Safe With Me

It was subtle at first -- the strange goings on in town. First it was the disappearance of Old Man Klaus’s spring lambs, then the discovery of those lambs in the woods, no blood left to their bodies, the mysterious rotting of fruits in the market, and now Christoff, the town’s pride and joy, having fallen to a sudden and inexplicable illness. It was becoming clear to the townspeople that something wasn’t right. That’s when they called on Fynn. That’s when this whole mess began.

Fynn had always been there for her village. Raised as a son by her knighted father, Fynn had always been a protector of the small but bustling village, rivaling even Christoff’s status in the town as the esteemed favorite. They trusted her. So it was not a surprise to Fynn when a young girl came by her family’s home (which now belonged to her after her parent’s passing) to deliver the request of the villagers to investigate. What did surprise her, however, was all this talk of a witch. There had never been told of a witch for all the time Fynn’s family had been in the village. Fynn herself didn’t even really think that witches were real. She should have known better, considering what she was.

_Anything for the village._ She thought. Another task to quickly complete to quell the paranoia of the pious town. At least, that’s all it should have been.

***

Fynn decided it was best to start as soon as possible and talk with Christoff, just to get this all over with. She knew he was at his grandmother’s, of course. Where else would the melodramatic heartthrob be in his time of need? Fynn chuckled to herself at this. In all of the years she knew Christoff, growing up together, sparring, training together, he had never changed much. 

Fynn’s thoughts are interrupted by Felda, the apothecary of the town, immediately asking her a million rapid-fire questions about the quest. Did you accept? Are you going to apprehend her now? She’s the one with the dark hair, I know it! Fynn will you fix this? Please, Christoff is so ill. She hexed him! Are you going to see him now? I just came from his grandmother’s, he is so ill. Word sure did get around fast.

Quickly soothing the frantic woman, Fynn explains herself, but abruptly stops. “Felda….what do you mean, the dark-haired girl?” Fynn didn’t get into town that much, she had never seen a girl like Felda was describing, there had to be at least a hundred dark-haired girls living here. Of course, it was just like Felda to suspect the Devil himself in the village.

Felda is nearly up in arms again trying to explain to the chivalrous woman, “The girl! She lives in the woods, Fynn, and I _swear_ she’s the one who drained Klaus’s lambs, she’s the one who made me lose business over my orchard! She punished us for being suspicious of the new comer, I mean that’s just how things are in the town, you must know -- and now we know she’s a witch and-” Fynn could see the woman rambling again and quickly stopped her, “Don’t worry Felda, I’m going to see Christoff now, I’m going to work it all out.” Fynn was hoping that would hold off the panicky nature of rumor for a while. The promise of a knight’s kin was not something held lightly in this town. 

Christoff was strange to say the very least, drunk, to be honest, and downright paranoid to say the very most. He made the same claims as Felda about the dark-haired girl, about a hex, though, the hex Christoff was experiencing seemed to get lost in translation to Felda’s already suspicious mind. When Fynn asked for a name, he gave her a slurred warble of Aster. _Aster_ , thought Fynn, _odd name for a supposed witch_. Christoff had admitted to Fynn things he didn’t tell Felda, things like how he was drunk when the altercation happened, that he had been hounding what he called his “lovely Aster”, despite the lovesick way he talked, the look on his face as he begged Fynn not to tell anyone what he had said was intense.The clammy grip on her arm assured her in Christoff’s intentions with the girl. Another in a long list of Christoff’s secrets Fynn was meant to keep. 

Fynn should have backed out right then and there. She should have waited out the night with Christoff and cleared the whole thing in the morning, some excuse of Christoff’s antics, wolves in the forest, and a harsh winter to explain everything else. That is for sure what the trusted protector of the town should have done. But there was something in her heart that urged her onward. Some mystery about Christoff’s “Aster”, how hurt he was by her not reciprocating his courting gestures. 

Without her strict and hard-lined father always watching over her shoulder anymore, and with the village’s trust behind her, Fynn decided to find this Aster, to see the woman that caught Christoff’s fleeting attention. Oh, what a mistake she had made. 

***

Dusk had settled in upon the town, and Fynn was lucky enough to get some lucid directions from Christoff, and the cover of night to shield her from the village’s prying eyes was soon coming. The cottage, just as Felda and Christoff had said, was in the woods. About one-hundred-fifty paces from the town. _Not that far_ , thought Fynn, _should be back by midnight_. A hopeful journey indeed. Fynn succeeded in slipping into the dense forest edge unnoticed (at least she hoped) as she had so done so many times before. Under different circumstances, of course, on different ends of the forest, but the muscle memory was still there. It guided her safely through the hard-to-see trunks easily. She went on like this for quite a while, mentally counting her paces and remembering Christoff’s clouded, yet decipherable instructions. Just as Fynn was about to unknowingly take a wrong right turn, a tall, spindly woman appears out of the corner of her eye. She is stunned, as the woman stands tall, her hair is twilight, and the way her dress hangs on her body alludes to the figure underneath. She is a soothing salve to the tired eyes. Beauty if Fynn had ever seen it. Her nose stood proud on her olive skin, and a slight speckling on her cheeks made her look like the daughter of the Sun. Fynn gulps deep, trying to get a mental grasp on the vision before her. 

_……Aster_

The name breathes softly like a storm in Fynn’s struck mind. Remembering that this is the girl that she is looking for, Fynn quickly comes to her senses and ducks behind a tree. Now with the thought to end her directional guess work, Fynn decides to tail the woman to her home. For future reference, she excuses, _this is an investigation, after all_. That excuse sits as a lie in Fynn’s stomach. A lie she knows all too well. Brushing it aside, the struck woman begins her stalking, hoping not to give away her presence. In this, too, Fynn succeeded. All the way she followed Aster home, the girl gave away no knowledge of Fynn. When the follower finally saw her target happily enter an ivy and moss-clad cottage, warm on the inside, Fynn could not process the evil that was supposed to have lurked within. She understood Christoff now. There was something about this girl. It was no secret to Fynn; her affinity for women. She blamed it on her father, always claimed that raising your daughter as a son could have that effect, she supposed. 

So in satisfying her “investigation” for the day, Fynn just sat along the treeline and observed the beautiful woman, in her beautiful cottage, and began to notice things. Things like the bells in the open window, which twinkled with the early Spring breeze, quickly becoming chill. The flowers and shrubbery that surrounded the cottage. Fynn hated the thought of bringing stress to this girl’s life. She really did. 

Somewhere in her heart Fynn knew that getting closer to her would only cause more trouble for the seemingly careless girl. At the same time, Fynn couldn’t help herself. She needed to get closer, she just needed to. 

There was just something, something about…. Aster. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoyed! more chapters to come (hopefully) （^人^）


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